A few days ago, God saw fit to orchestrate my day so when I walked out of our crisis building, there stood the kid from "A Nice Surprise" and "Affirmations" (the one holding the baby). I hadn't seen him since March so I made a big, silly display and fussed all over him, to his delight. I LOVE it when I run into old kids (especially my favorites, even though we're not supposed to have favorites!)
We stood there talking for 45 minutes, much longer than I had planned but thankfully I had the time. He's been home for over 2 years, still has full time employment, a car, a girlfriend, a child of his own, and has not reoffended (at least that's what he tells me). Yet every day is a struggle...and as he kept talking, the harder, I realized, the struggle was for him. He is a believer so he was able to articulate clearly that he can see the powers of darkness surrounding him constantly and consistently, tempting him with every available "shortcut" to more money, different woman, "the game"...He described how "in his face" illegal activity was, every day..."It would be so easy, Ms. Jen..." Yet he fights against it, again and again. "Sometimes I just want to leave, to go and get away from here...but I have a son now..."
He mentioned how he knew God wouldn't give him more than he could handle. I corrected him a bit and quoted 1 Corinthians 10:13 (which is where I think the majority of people get that idea from) but pointed out, "Most folks forget the last part...God always provides a way of escape when you are tempted...so look for that when you're in these situations". A light went off in his head and he began to tell me that he knew exactly what I was talking about and how God had indeed shown up time after time in various ways to keep him from taking that last step back towards a life a depravity. Yet, as faithful as He was/is, this kid was battling for his life and being beaten up in his mind and heart in the process. It showed on his face, in his posture...No amount of praise I gave him seemed to lift his spirits.
I tried everything...Pointing out all he'd accomplished, how proud I was and he should be for staying clean and offense-free for over 2 years...That he had employment, a beautiful lady, a gorgeous son, his health, etc. Yet his head still hung. After a long pause he looked at me..."You know that show Lockup?" I nodded. "Sometimes I watch it and...I just..." and he couldn't finish. So I finished it for him. "You miss it" (meaning prison)...and with an emphatic, "Yes!" that was accompanied by a bent over body, pained expression, and a tone I can only describe as shame mixed with longing, I felt a hurt in my heart for this kid that was different than anything I'd ever felt before. He went on to say that as crazy as it sounded, at times he missed being in prison, not having to worry about the struggle of the day to day, he could count on the routine, he had a place there amongst his fellow inmates, the inward battles weren't as hard as what he had to do every moment to stay on the straight and narrow because almost everyone traveled the wide road on the inside. I could tell that it was the last thing he wanted to admit to himself or to anyone else but, in a confessional way, at last it was out there.
"It's ok that you feel that way", I told him. "You've spent more on your life on the inside than you have on the outside...It makes more sense in there, it's what you know. You're still trying to figure out how to live out here..." and he kept nodding his head. I also pointed out that he'd lost most of his formative years to the system...so while everyone else was sowing oats and getting teenage/young adult nonsense out of the way, he was stuck in a quad with a few hundred guys. Now he's almost 30 and feeling the weight of being a responsible adult when all he wants is to go back to the years he missed, 18-27...even a few before that when he did juvie time. "Yes!", he said again..."I never got any of that...all those birthdays..." and he couldn't finish.
We talked about grief...and that he was currently grieving not only the time he'd lost but also the idea/hope of what those years would have looked like for him. I tried to give him some tips, some scriptures and verses to chew on and claim...He said, "I just don't have anyone to talk to...I should just come talk to you"...and with that, a big SUV pulled up w/ pumping bass, the look on his face changed, he gave me a quick hug, got into the car, and drove away. I just stood there by myself, wishing he hadn't left...wondering who he was with, where were they going...
I left with such a mix of feelings...Overall, I felt so very sad that life was such a struggle for this kid that it made him homesick for prison. It made me sad that he has no family ties at all to support him, that the idea of going back to the streets fills his both with dread but a sick excitement which is why he won't leave the city ("I want to be near it...not a part of it, but just close enough to be near it"), that even though he made the decision to play it straight when he came home 2 years ago, it hasn't been the affirming path of freedom that he'd imagined it would be. And, unfortunately, it was another reality check for me regarding why so many of these guys go back and stay trapped in the cycle of recidivism. I just pray that this kid makes it, that life would cut him a few breaks and begin to make more sense for him...that his homesickness would lessen...
We stood there talking for 45 minutes, much longer than I had planned but thankfully I had the time. He's been home for over 2 years, still has full time employment, a car, a girlfriend, a child of his own, and has not reoffended (at least that's what he tells me). Yet every day is a struggle...and as he kept talking, the harder, I realized, the struggle was for him. He is a believer so he was able to articulate clearly that he can see the powers of darkness surrounding him constantly and consistently, tempting him with every available "shortcut" to more money, different woman, "the game"...He described how "in his face" illegal activity was, every day..."It would be so easy, Ms. Jen..." Yet he fights against it, again and again. "Sometimes I just want to leave, to go and get away from here...but I have a son now..."
He mentioned how he knew God wouldn't give him more than he could handle. I corrected him a bit and quoted 1 Corinthians 10:13 (which is where I think the majority of people get that idea from) but pointed out, "Most folks forget the last part...God always provides a way of escape when you are tempted...so look for that when you're in these situations". A light went off in his head and he began to tell me that he knew exactly what I was talking about and how God had indeed shown up time after time in various ways to keep him from taking that last step back towards a life a depravity. Yet, as faithful as He was/is, this kid was battling for his life and being beaten up in his mind and heart in the process. It showed on his face, in his posture...No amount of praise I gave him seemed to lift his spirits.
I tried everything...Pointing out all he'd accomplished, how proud I was and he should be for staying clean and offense-free for over 2 years...That he had employment, a beautiful lady, a gorgeous son, his health, etc. Yet his head still hung. After a long pause he looked at me..."You know that show Lockup?" I nodded. "Sometimes I watch it and...I just..." and he couldn't finish. So I finished it for him. "You miss it" (meaning prison)...and with an emphatic, "Yes!" that was accompanied by a bent over body, pained expression, and a tone I can only describe as shame mixed with longing, I felt a hurt in my heart for this kid that was different than anything I'd ever felt before. He went on to say that as crazy as it sounded, at times he missed being in prison, not having to worry about the struggle of the day to day, he could count on the routine, he had a place there amongst his fellow inmates, the inward battles weren't as hard as what he had to do every moment to stay on the straight and narrow because almost everyone traveled the wide road on the inside. I could tell that it was the last thing he wanted to admit to himself or to anyone else but, in a confessional way, at last it was out there.
"It's ok that you feel that way", I told him. "You've spent more on your life on the inside than you have on the outside...It makes more sense in there, it's what you know. You're still trying to figure out how to live out here..." and he kept nodding his head. I also pointed out that he'd lost most of his formative years to the system...so while everyone else was sowing oats and getting teenage/young adult nonsense out of the way, he was stuck in a quad with a few hundred guys. Now he's almost 30 and feeling the weight of being a responsible adult when all he wants is to go back to the years he missed, 18-27...even a few before that when he did juvie time. "Yes!", he said again..."I never got any of that...all those birthdays..." and he couldn't finish.
We talked about grief...and that he was currently grieving not only the time he'd lost but also the idea/hope of what those years would have looked like for him. I tried to give him some tips, some scriptures and verses to chew on and claim...He said, "I just don't have anyone to talk to...I should just come talk to you"...and with that, a big SUV pulled up w/ pumping bass, the look on his face changed, he gave me a quick hug, got into the car, and drove away. I just stood there by myself, wishing he hadn't left...wondering who he was with, where were they going...
I left with such a mix of feelings...Overall, I felt so very sad that life was such a struggle for this kid that it made him homesick for prison. It made me sad that he has no family ties at all to support him, that the idea of going back to the streets fills his both with dread but a sick excitement which is why he won't leave the city ("I want to be near it...not a part of it, but just close enough to be near it"), that even though he made the decision to play it straight when he came home 2 years ago, it hasn't been the affirming path of freedom that he'd imagined it would be. And, unfortunately, it was another reality check for me regarding why so many of these guys go back and stay trapped in the cycle of recidivism. I just pray that this kid makes it, that life would cut him a few breaks and begin to make more sense for him...that his homesickness would lessen...
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